Thou Shalt Not Be Afraid Arc The Terror by Night
by OXBastetXO
Summary: In the weeks following their coronation, the Pevensies face a challenge that may take Edmund away from them forever and it's up to them to save him from the Witch's allies and from himself. Golden Age.Finally Complete!
1. Uneasy Sits the Crown

Title: Thou Shalt Not Be Afraid Arc - The Terror by Night

Author: OXBastetXO

Rating: K+

Archive: Please ask first

Status: In Progress

Category: Hurt/Comfort/Drama

Summary: In the weeks following their coronation, the Pevensies face a challenge that may take Edmund away from them forever and it's up to them to save him from the Witch's allies and from himself. Golden Era.

Spoilers: For The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe both Book and Movie

Please be kind.

I don't own them, C.S. Lewis' estate and Walden Media does. I'm just borrowing them for a while, though I may keep Edmund, Peter and Phillip for a bit longer. ;-)

Author's Note: This is my first Narnia story. I've been working on this for the last few weeks and a single story has turned into a two story arc. My betas are working steadily away at this one while I'm busy writing the second. Many, many thanks to Rhyselle, Alliesings and LibraTraveler for the wonderful beta work!! Thank you guys!!

* * *

_Thou Shalt Not Be Afraid Arc_

_The Terror by Night_

_by _

_OXBastetXO_

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"_Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor the arrow that flieth by day;"_

_Psalm 91:5_

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Chapter 1 - Uneasy Sits the Crown

Edmund sat on the balcony overlooking the sea, the salty breeze ruffling his hair and cooling his flushed face. Inside, he could hear Lucy giggling merrily at Peter and Susan's musical laughter joining in with them. He knew he should be with the others, but he didn't feel very much like laughing right now.

Everything had happened so quickly. It seemed like just hours ago they had all piled into the wardrobe to escape the dreaded Macready and ended up in Narnia together. He sighed. Had that been his first trip to Narnia, how differently would things have happened?

Edmund pulled his knees up tightly to his chest and rested his forehead against the marble banister of the balcony. Edmund Pevensie from Finchley, King of Narnia. He shook his head. King. He didn't deserve to be King. Peter did, Lucy and Susan did, well Queens in their right, but he didn't deserve it.

He closed his eyes.

"_Is our little prince uncomfortable? Does he want his pillow fluffed? Special treatment for the special boy! Isn't that what you wanted?" Ginarrbrik the dwarf snarled at Edmund, taunting. _

_The harsh bite of the_ _whip cracked his shoulder as the dwarf laughed cruelly. More taunting followed as the black dwarf poked and jabbed at him. _

_He deserved it. All of it and more. His brother and sisters could be dead, and it was his fault. Tumnus was a stone statue, and it was his fault. And the fox. And the butterfly. And—_

"Edmund?"

Peter's voice jerked Edmund out of his dark thoughts. He looked up to see his older brother standing in the doorway to the balcony, frowning. Peter looked around a moment before finally seeing Edmund hunched in the corner by the railing.

Concern flashed over his features, "Ed, you alright?" he asked, moving to kneel beside him.

Edmund looked up, suddenly realizing his face was wet. Had he been crying? Blushing furiously, he hurried to brush the evidence away. "I'm fine," he mumbled refusing to look his brother in the face. He struggled to unfold his body and stand. The balcony under him bucked and swayed at the sudden movement.

Peter reached out, taking his arm to steady him. "Sure, and I'm a penguin."

Edmund couldn't help but smile at that. "I'm just tired," he said finally. "I didn't sleep much last night. Too much to think about," he said with a shrug.

He could tell Peter wanted to question him more, but they were saved by Lucy bounding out. "Peter! Edmund! You have to see what Mr. Tumnus brought!" Lucy went on in a happy babble about a squirrel and a lark and something involving a gooseberry patch.

Edmund smiled at his little sister's happiness and rubbed his aching wrist. He grimaced at the pins and needles feeling in it. He must have pinched it against the banister and not noticed. Peter gave him a questioning look, but Edmund just brushed it off with a shrug. He hurried to catch up with Lucy, trying to sort out her story.

* * *

Peter watched as Edmund listlessly pushed his food around on his plate. The younger King was going through the motions of eating without actually eating anything. Peter caught Susan's eye, and he realized she had noticed it as well. She gave Pater a questioning look, but he warned her with a subtle shake of his head not to mention it.

Something was bothering Edmund, but he had learned long ago not to push his brother. Edmund would only talk about it when he was good and ready and not a moment before.

Much to her credit, Lucy was holding up a very animated conversation at her end of the table with a dramatic recounting of a conversation she had with a group of talking Rabbits she had met on the grounds outside the castle.

"Edmund, you wouldn't believe how many words they have for grass and they have twelve different words just to describe all the different shades and hues of green!" she went on.

Edmund grunted his amazement. "I've always thought most animals were color blind," he commented.

"Maybe animals in our world, but not the Animals here," Lucy responded, stuffing most of a roll into her mouth. "Mrs. Cloverblossom made the most wonderful tea. I promised I'd be back tomorrow to visit them again," she mumbled around the mouthful and she dug in her pocket for something.

"Lucy!" Susan scolded. "It isn't polite to talk with your mouth full!"

The young Queen blushed and mumbled an apology.

Susan smiled, shaking her head and glanced at Peter. They may be Kings and Queens of Narnia, but some things never changed.

Edmund yawned abruptly and his face colored. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. He tucked his napkin under the edge of his plate. "If you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to turn in. I promised Phillip an early ride tomorrow. He wanted to show me the spot he thinks will make a wonderful paddock and would like to get me there and back before the heat of the day."

Lucy was still digging for something in her pocket as he got up. "Edmund, wait," she called before he left. He paused as she pulled a small wreath of slightly crumpled white flowers out. "Mrs. Cloverblossom asked me to give you this, though I'm not sure why."

"Thanks, Lucy," he said, reaching for the flower wreath. As soon as he took them, he grimaced, flexing his right wrist.

"Edmund, are you alright?" Peter asked, noting the reaction.

Edmund gave him a perplexed look and shook his head. "Nothing. I'm fine, just tired," he said with a wan smile that didn't make it to his eyes. He gave Lucy a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, Lu." He glanced at the others. "Night," he said slipping away quickly before they could stop him again.

Peter sat back in his chair. Something just wasn't right, but he just couldn't figure out just what it was.


	2. Dark Memories

Author's note: Thank you to everyone for you encouraging words. It's always hard to branch out into a new fandom. :-)

This is a repost of this chapter. I was doing a reread and found a verb shift problem in one part that my betas and I both missed...opps! Fixed now!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 2 - Dark Memories

_Cold. _

_Deep bone chilling cold. _

_Winters in England had been cold, but nothing like this. Cold so pervasive that there seemed there never could have been warmth. _

_Summer was just a dream of a dream. _

_A fairy tale._

_Cold metal bit his ankles and dug in painfully as he tried to pull his legs in close to conserve what little warmth is left in him. _

_A noise to his right filtered through his misery. A faun. Just like Lucy said. Something clicked and he realized it was Lucy's faun, Mt. Tumnus. Their eyes met and the look of misery in the other prisoner's stole his breath away. Misery he caused. He was the reason Tumnus washere. Why he was beaten and bound and chained to the floor. It was his fault. _

_Suddenly, the witch loomed over him. Her brittle, beautiful face full of fury and malice. Malicious glee filled her cruel eyes as she glances at Mr. Tumnus. "You are here because--" she turned to fix her baleful glared on Edmund, her terrible wand reaching out to point at him. "He turned you in--for sweeties."_

_Shame and guilt swept through Edmund as the faun stared at him in disbelief and disgust._

_Every fiber in him wanted to call out. To beg the faun's forgiveness. To stop the Witch from taking Mr. Tumnus away. To make it all stop. He just wanted it to stop. He was sorry. There were no words for how sorry he was. Please, just forgive him. He just wanted them to forgive him. _

"Edmund." Hands shook him and he struggled to break free.

"Please," he begged. "No more! Don't hit me!" He pleaded, curling into a ball to protect himself from Ginarrbrik's whip. "Just don't hurt them! Please don't hurt them!"

Suddenly, arms envelped him and rich famliar scent washed over him. He stopped struggling when he finally realized who it was.

"Peter," he breathed, melting in relief. His breathing hitched and broke in a sob. His brother held him tightly as the fear and terror of the dream worked their way out of him.

As his breathing finally evened back out to a more normal rate, Peter leaned back to get a good look at him. "Her?" he asked gently and Edmund nodded. Peter sighed. "She's gone," he reminded him.

Edmund lowered his eyes. "I know. I just--" He let out a long breath. "Peter, I hurt so many people," he started.

"I know," Peter interrupted. "But 'what's done is done'," he said quoting Aslan. "We go from here."

Edmund nodded, hanging his head. This was chewing him up inside. He needed to talk to someone. He couldn't tell the girls. He could never tell them about what he had done...what he had helped do. He suddenly felt sick and struggled to untangle himself from the bed clothes. Peter realized what was happening and helped him out from under the covers and grabbed the chamber pot before Edmund was well and truly sick. Peter was a brick, sitting beside him and rubbing his back in comforting circles until the worst of it was over.

Peter got him a drink of water to wash his mouth out and then helped him back into bed. "We'll talk about this later," he promised. "You need rest right now and things will be better in the morning, I promise."

Edmund nodded, letting his older brother tuck him in. He caught Peter's hand. "Thank you," he said earnestly.

Peter smiled. "That's what brother's do, Ed. We just kind of forgot about that for a while, but not any more." He leaned in and placed a kiss on Edmund's forehead. Before, Edmund would have been disgusted by the show of affection, but now-- He reached up and gave his brother a hug.

"Love you, Peter," he whispered.

"Love you too, Edmund," Peter said, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him. "Now, go to sleep," he ordered fondly.

Edmund smiled wearily and for once, he did as his brother told him.

* * *

Lucy rubbed her eyes sleepily as she headed towards her room, bare feet padding soundlessly against the thick carpeting of the hall that led to the royal bed chambers. Peter and Edmund's rooms lay to the one side and she and Susan's on the other.

Lucy frowned when she saw the door to Edmund's rooms were ajar. Another nightmare. He had so many of them. They all had since the war back in England and meeting the Witch here, but Edmund especially. Anger bubbled up in her chest as she thought about how the Witch had treated her brother.

Edmund rarely spoke of what happened, at least not to Susan or her. She had a feeling he might have talked to Peter, but she didn't know. None of them had asked after Aslan told them not to press Edmund. Lucy dearly wished Edmund would talk to one of them, though. She could tell he was still beating himself up inside about what had happened. He was always too hard on himself. He had been beastly to them, but so had they been with him. They were all equally to blame for what happened, but Edmund took all of it onto himself.

She sighed and went to head to her room when she saw something: the little flower wreath Mrs. Cloverblossom had been so insistent she give Edmund. It lay on the small table outside her brother's room. She picked it up, the small fragrant flowers had begun to wilt badly, but they still smelled very sweet.

Suddenly, she rememberd Mrs. Cloverblossom had asked her to have Edmund put it on his windowsill. She didn't know why and the Rabbit hadn't told her, just made her promise that he would.

She frowned thoughtfully and nodded to herself. A promise was a promise. She held the small wreath gently and slipped silently into her brother's room. She knew she shouldn't go into his room without knocking, but he really did need his sleep, and she was just going to slip in and lay the wreath on his windowsill. She tiptoed quietly to the window and laid the wreath down. She glanced to the bed and wasn't surprised to see Peter dozing, leaning against the pillows at the head of the bed. Edmund was all but invisible under the covers, a small thatch of dark hair the only part sticking out. Lucy frowned at the faint smell of sickness that clung to the room. It must have been a very bad nightmare, she thought sadly. She moved quietly, not to wake her brothers. Peter would watch over Edmund and everything would be fine in the morning. She whispered a soft prayer to Aslan to protect her brothers as she pulled the door closed quietly and headed for her own bed.


	3. The Horse and His Boy

Thanks everyone for all the wonderful reviews...please keep it up!

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Chapter 3 - The Horse and His Boy

Edmund kept his head down and his face close to Phillip's mane as the Horse galloped. Phillip knew the boy had taken riding lessons back in the land of Spare Oom, but those lessons had been with the tame, dumb horses, not with the Horses of Narnia. Talking Horses were not docile, obedient animals who could not think for themselves that one used for riding or hauling a cart or wagon. They were free, proud, thinking creatures. Only in great need or to defend ones herd or home, would they stoop to letting another creature ride them, that was, except Phillip. Phillip had taken it on himself to instruct Edmund on the finer points of riding, and who better to teach him than the one he was riding. He chose Edmund to be his rider, and Edmund, for his part, respected his teacher and friend.

Edmund tightened his grip on the reins as his knees started lose their grip. Phillip's reins were not like the normal reins a horse wore. There was no bit in the bridle to control or force him to go one way or another. The reins were there merely to guide and give the rider something to hold onto and keep his balance.

Sensing Edmund's flagging stamina, Phillip slowed. "Are you alright, sire?" the Horse asked, giving a snort as he caught his breath. He was barely winded; the young King shouldn't be this fatigued.

Edmund gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "Sorry, Phillip. I know you wanted a good run. I guess I'm just more tired than I thought."

Phillip sensed the tension in the boy's frame. "More nightmares?" the Horse prodded gently.

Edmund sighed. "Yes," he said so softly the Horse, even with his keen hearing, nearly missed it. He shifted his ears so to listen more closely.

He knew the boy had many a restless night of late. He had spoken of it briefly with Phillip on their first ride after the battle, but then the young king had been reluctant to discuss the matter as if afraid to be judged on the matter. Phillip known of Edmund's treason with the Witch, but also of his repentance and feelings of guilt in the matter. He had know about that even before he offered himself to be the boy's mount for training before the battle of Beruna. Admittedly, he had been reluctant, but Aslan seemed to trust the boy, and if the great Lion could trust this traitor, who was Phillip to judge? The more the Horse got to know the boy, the more he liked him. He was a quiet, thoughtful lad. No doubt more with what had happened to him. The boy loved his brother and sisters with a fierceness that Phillip had only seen between herdmates.

Others of his own herd had questioned his wisdom of remain with the boy when the others were leaving to their grazing lands. Some had openly scoffed at his willingness to let the boy ride him and his decision to take over the boy's riding lessons. Some of his herd had even started calling him 'domesticated', but he didn't care. Edmund was just a colt and far too focused on watching out for his brother and sisters to watch after his own safety. If none of the others saw the need, he was more than willing to keep a watchful eye on the young King and protect him as much as he was able.

Phillip waited patiently for Edmund to elaborate about his nightmare, but the young king had grown silent. Phillip gave a shake of his whither to jar Edmund from his reverie.

Edmund jerked and then hung his head sheepishly. "Sorry," he said with a small smile and then he sighed. "Maybe later, Phillip. I'm just not ready." Edmund sat back in the saddle. "Is this the field for the paddock?" he asked, looking around them.

"This the first of the fields," Phillip said, turning his attention back to where they were. "There is another field just over the hill that is lush with sweet clover."

"Did you know that Rabbits have twelve different words for green?" Edmund said suddenly.

Phillip chuckled. "Yes, I have been told."

Edmund lapsed back into silence. He shifted uneasily in the saddle. "I dreamed about Her again," he said finally. "More like memories really than dreams. About the dungeon and Mr. Tumnus." He sighed and hung his head. "It was my fault he was there. The first time I came to Narnia, I told Her that Lucy had met him." He paused the swallowed thickly. "If I had only understood then what I do now, I would have never--" He blew out a deep breath. "I was really stupid, Phillip, and selfish and--"

Phillip gave him a little shake. "And you are no longer that boy, sire. Did not Aslan tell you 'what is done is done'? One can no more change the past than one can see into what tomorrow holds. All we can do is do the best we can and trust Aslan."

Edmund nodded, rubbing absently at his right wrist. He shivered suddenly, and then Phillip felt it: a cold wind, like a touch of frost. His ears pricked forward and he looked around sharply. Unnatural cold. He shifted uneasily, stomping his feet.

Instantly tightening his grip on the reins. "What is it, Phillip?" Edmund asked quickly.

"There's something wrong here," he said, backing up slowly.

Edmund pivoted in his saddle, trying to look around.

Something flashed above them with a screech. "Sire!" Phillip called out, jerking back. He could feel Edmund slidding out of the saddle with the sudden movement.

"Phillip!" he called, grabbing for a handful of mane to try to keep from falling.

Something screeched overhead again and he felt the boy lurch forward, slamming his face into back of Phillip's neck. That's when Phillip saw it. A flash of ebony feathers. A Raven!

"Edmund, down!" he ordered the boy. "Get between me and the tree," he said, backing up to a largish oak.

Too dazed to argue, Edmund relinquished his tangled grasp on Phillip's mane and slid off, stumbling out of the way and towards the tree.

Once Edmund was safely off his back, Phillip wheeled. He reared back as the Raven swung around again. "Move, Horse. I have no quarrel with you. I just want the boy, the usurper, the traitor."

"I will not let you have my King," Phillip whinnied back defiantly.

"False King," the Raven screeched, diving at him.

Phillip struck out with his hooves and teeth. He knew this was not a good fight. The Raven had the advantage of air and Phillip had to be careful he didn't trample Edmund, but there was no way he was going to let the fell creature harm his King.

Talons and beak slashed at him, and hot blood welled from several vicious gashes along his flanks, but he shielded the worst of the attack from Edmund.

Suddenly, an arrow sang through the air and the Raven screeched as the bolt pierced it's foul heart. The fell creature gave a futile flap of its wings and fell to the ground, dead.

Phillip dropped down to his feet and turned to check on Edmund. The boy was slumped against the tree, blood trickling down his forehead from a gash on his scalp.

"Sire?" Phillip nudged the young King, and Edmund looked up at him.

He reached up, pulling himself up to wrap his arms around Phillip's neck. "Thank you," he breathed. Edmund pulled back to look at the Horse. "Are you alright?"

Before he could answer, the sound of hooves thundered towards them.

"Edmund!"

Queen Susan and Queen Lucy practically threw themselves off their mounts, bounding over to them. Queen Susan had her bow in her hand as they ran over.

Edmund took one look at the bow and then glanced at the fallen Raven. "Good shot, Su," he said tiredly, leaning heavily against the Horse.

"Good thing I decided to visit Mrs. Cloverblossom with Lucy," she said, pulling out her handkerchief and dabbing carefully at the gash on Edmund's head. Edmund hissed in pain and ducked his head.

"Oh, Phillip," Queen Lucy exclaimed in concern, pulling out her own handkerchief and beginning to tend to the gashes on the Horse's flank. Phillip tried his best to hold still, but he couldn't stop the quivers going through his withers as she worked. "Oh, I'm sorry," she kept saying as she worked. As young as she was, she had learned very well from the healers. "We need to get you both back to the castle to tend your wounds properly," the younger queen told them. She paused and looked up into Phillip's eyes. "Thank you for taking care of my brother," she said, leaning up to kiss his nose.

Phillip felt himself become very warm, and he ducked his head. "My duty and my honor, my Queen," he said shyly.

Edmund smiled and then jerked his head away with a hiss, glaring at his older sister. "Hold this," she told him, putting his hand on top of the cloth on his head. "Thank you, Phillip," the older queen said, echoing her sister's graditude.

Ever the practical one, Susan looked around. "Edmund, you ride my horse and I'll double up with Lucy. Phillip, are you all right to travel?" she asked the Horse.

"Yes, your majesty. Though painful, my wounds are not severe," Phillip told her. He was being truthful. His side hurt, but not so much to slow them down too much. He would rather not let another horse carry Edmund, but neither of them were in a condition to argue this point at the moment.

The trip back to the castle was a much quieter affair than the morning ride had been . Phillip kept easy pace beside the horse Edmund rode, the Queens following on the horse behind them. The young King rode with his shoulder slumped, cradling his right wrist against his chest.

"Sire?" Phillip nudged Edmund's elbow with his nose.

Edmund blinked and then looked over at him. "You alright, Phillip?"

The Horse nickered. "I was just about to ask you that. Your wrist?"

Edmund rubbed it. "I must have landed on it funny. It's fine, just sore."

"You were favoring it earlier."

The young King frowned. "I was?"

"You have been the last few days," Phillip pointed out.

"I hadn't noticed," he commented wearily.

Phillip did not have a chance to pursue the questioning because at that moment, King Peter arrived, obviously having been alerted by a corps of Squirrels, and Edmund was spirited away to the castle.

Queen Lucy saw Phillip to the stables and made sure he was looked after before she went to check on her brother.

Much to his consternation, everyone made a great fuss over Phillip's bravery in protecting the young King. He took it all graciously, but he still worried about Edmund.


	4. Observations Old and New

Chapter 4 - Observations Old and New

Edmund wished everyone would just stop fussing and leave him alone. His head hurt from the rap on his skull he had taken from the Raven when it had surprised Phillip and him, not to mention the assortment of claw marks on his shoulders from the talons, but he was more worried about Phillip. The brave Horse had taken the worst of the beating from the ambush. Edmund felt like a blazing idiot. His guard had been down. After all this classes with Oreius, it was a stupid mistake to make and had almost cost Phillip's and his own lives.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" a small excited voice caught his attention, and he looked down. A tiny Squirrel was staring up at him tugging on the fur of an older Squirrel, presumably the little Squirrel's Father. "Daddy! It's him!" the little Squirrel said in awe, huge eyes staring at Edmund.

Edmund gave the Squirrels a confused look as the father Squirrel looked up and recognition flooded his features.

"Well, bless my tail and whiskers, if'n it ain't," the older Squirrel said in surprise.

Suddenly, the whole troupe of Squirrels were bowing low in front of Edmund.

Helplessly, he looked at his brother, but Peter seemed just as confused as he was.

"Pray rise, noble Squirrels," Edmund said at a total loss, but not wanting to offend the little Animals. "Have we met?" he asked after a moment.

"In a manner of speaking, yes, your majesty and no," the elder Squirrel told him. "We have met before, but we've never properly introduced we have. I'm Barkrunner and this is my son, Flickleaf. "

"It is a pleasure," Edmund said, racking his aching brain trying to remember meeting Talking Squirrels before, but he couldn't.

"It was a few weeks ago, your Majesty," the elder Squirrel told him. "Before your Majesties defeated the Witch. When your Majesty was her prisoner," he said softly. "You risked yourself to try to prevent the Witch from turning us to stone."

Peter looked sharply at Edmund at this, clearly surprised.

Edmund felt his ears burn as he suddenly remembered. "The Christmas tea party," he acknowledged. "It was the least I could do. I'm sorry, I should have tried harder to protect you. I--" he broke off in ashamed silence.

"Nay, your majesty," the Squirrel said sharply. "You did what you could, there is no shame in that. You were her prisoner, but you tried, even bound as you was."

"And she hit you," Flickleaf piped up and then he covered his mouth, ducking back behind his Father.

Barkrunner smiled fondly at his son. "Aye, she was fond of being a brute with those who didn't do as she told," he said wryly.

Edmund blinked in confusion. "How did you know that? That was after she turned you to stone," he stated.

"Keiree the Lark told us after we became ourselves again. She saw the whole thing."

The young King closed his eyes guilt flooding through him again wondering how much of his actions with the Witch his subjects had witnessed. How much they knew.

A small furry hand touched his. "King Edmund, if I may be so bold," the Barkrunner said. "Thank you, your Majesty. The Squirrels of our clan will be forever grateful for your bravery and if we may ever be a service, we are at you beck and call."

"Thank you," Edmund said, struggling for words, humbled by the Squirrel's gratitude. "I will strive to be worthy of your honor," he told them.

Barkrunner smiled. "You are, your Majesty," he said, nudging his son to move as they excused themselves.

Peter came up to Edmund and laid his hand on the young King's shoulder. "You never said anything about that," he said. "I'd say that was pretty brave of you."

Edmund hung his head. "I should have tried helped them more."

"Don't forget you were her prisoner at that point, Ed. You did what you could, and that's what counts. I'm proud of you," the older boy told him.

Edmund looked up sharply and then flushed at the praise.

"Ease up on yourself," Peter said quietly, giving his brother's shoulder a squeeze. "Let's get you in and get you cleaned up. That Raven really tried to take a chunk out of you," he said, frowning and giving the gash on Edmund's head a good look. "The Squirrels think the Raven may have been someone left over from the Witch's army. I had though we cleared that lot out of here. I have Oreius send out a some troupes to patrol the area and see what they can find. Until then, I think we should keep closer to the castle until we know what we're up against."

"Good idea," Edmund said tiredly, letting his brother lead him back into the castle.

* * *

Peter watched as Edmund silently sat through his wounds being dressed. What worried him the most was the silence. Edmund was never one to suffer in silence. That was until now.

Ever since he had come back from his time with the Witch, he was different. In some ways, it was wonderful. They had their brother back. Edmund, as he had been before the war and school. Edmund how he remembered him when they were small, back when they were as close as any two brothers could be. In other ways, it was disturbing. He was too quiet. Too thoughtful. Peter worried about what was going on in his brother's head.

Edmund looked up and saw Peter watching him. "Are you sure Phillip is alright?" he asked for the tenth time since they had gotten back to Cair Paravell.

"Oreius is looking after him personally," Peter reassured his brother again. "He said the wounds looked much more severe than they actually were. He'll be fine."

Edmund lapsed back into silence. Peter shot a concerned look at the Tholun, the elder Faun, who was carefully stitching the gash on Edmund's head closed. The Faun shook his head, and Peter bit back a sigh. Once the head wound was tended to, Edmund's other injuries were cleaned and bandaged in short order.

After Edmund was cleaned up and safely tucked into his bed, Tholun sought Peter out. "Your Majesty, I needed to asked you something. Has King Edmund been ill?" he asked.

Peter frowned. "No, why do you ask?"

"You'll forgive me, sire, but he doesn't look well." Tholun held up a hand to forestall Peter. "I mean, more than his current injuries. Has he been having difficulty sleeping?" he asked.

The High King sighed. "Yes. Edmund's been having pretty nasty nightmares ever since we got him back," he finally admitted quietly.

The Faun nodded. "Understandable." A look of sadness passed over the healer's face. "I think we often forget because of how much good you have brought to Narnia, how very young you still are."

Peter suddenly bristled, but Tholun held up his hands in a placating manner. "I mean no disrespect, your Majesty. Your youth is not a cause for shame. You and the other Son of Adam and Daughters of Eve have proved you carry a maturity well beyond your years. We can only thank Aslan for choosing so well, but it still does not change the fact of your youth, nor change the face that it is our duty and our privilegeto protect you as best we can," Tholum said solemnly.

A warmth filled the High King at the healer's words and shame at judging him too quickly. "Thank you," he said finally.

The elder Faun bowed deeply. "It is my honor, my King. I will go offer General Oreius my humble skill if he needs it for Phillip. By your leave?" he requested and Peter nodded.

"Thank you, Tholum. I'm sure that will do much to reassure Edmund. No offence to General Oreius, of course."

"Of course," Tholum said with a smile.

Peter watched him go and then went to check on his brother.


	5. Creatures of the Night

Chapter 5 - Creatures of the Night

Wings beat in a slow rhythm as the Great Bat flew, inky black against the night sky. Fools that they were, the guards were only watching the ground for intruders. He slowed and wheeled over the tower. He moved to drop onto the bulwark when he saw it: a guard! Oh, so they were finally watching the sky. Stupid Brandubh. If the Raven had not become impatient, they would still be going according to plan. He wheeled again, his wing beats nearly silent. He landed on the far side the tower and quietly crept forward, his toes and claws finding purchase in the cracks and grooves in the stones of the high tower walls.

He worked slowly and quietly. No need to alert the guards any more than they were. He worked his way towards the youngest King's window. He knew every square inch of this journey as he had made many times now. The fools. They dreamed themselves so safe in their high castle and lofty words. False Kings and Queens. Userpers. They had stolen it from Her, and they would pay.

He crept toward the window. He eased down to swing in, but a soft scent caught his nose, and he hissed, drawing back. Small black eyes darted around to find the source of the accursed smell. He found it: a small withered wreath of white. Small, but potent magic--magic he must obey and not cross. He hissed again and began his song. He was forbidden to touch it, but that did not mean he could not move others to remove it. He twisted his song, calling. The curtains fluttered at the windows, a small, pale hand appeared, and he smiled, changing the timber of the song, commanding. The hand reached for the wreath to brush it aside.

_Yes, push it away. _

"Edmund?" a young male voice called from in the room. "What are doing? You're supposed to be resting."

_No! _He hissed, drawing back.

The youngest King was his!

He riskedraising the tempo of the song, demanding. The hand at the window paused, wavering and then obeyed. The crumpled white flowers fell down almost like a crushed feather, floating on the breeze, twisting downward in a spiral.

"Edmund?" The male voice took on a concerned tone and softened. "Come away from the window."

"Peter?" the youngest King said softly. "Oh, my head hurts."

He heard them move away from the windo, and he settled into wait. He was not Brandubh. He was patient. Infinitely so. The false Kings thought themselves safe, but with the small white impediment now gone, he could wait.

* * *

Susan sat by Edmund's bed, her needlework forgotten on her lap as she watched her brother shift restlessly on the bed. She put her needlework down and sat down on the bed beside him, reaching for the bowl of water on the bedside table. She wrung out the rag and gently wiped his face with the cool, herb-scented water. He stilled under her touch and eased back into a quieter sleep. Susan had relieved Peter a few hours before to let her older brother sleep. Peter had stayed with Edmund ever since the attack on him earlier in the day.

Her heart had nearly stopped when she and Lucy had come on the attack. She had seen Edmund tumble off Phillip's back and the brave Horse rear up trying to protect them from the enraged Raven slashing down on them. She hadn't even thought as she had drawn her bow and set an arrow flying at the the Bird, praying fervently to Aslan that her aim would be true to the mark. There had been no time to even consider her actions. Her hands trembled and she closed her eyes, tears burning behind them. She had taken a life. Yes, it had been evil, but it was one of the magical Talking Beasts, not some dumb bird like the birds of her own world. The thought made her feel sick. This was the second life she had taken. The first had been that horrid dwarf, Ginarrbrik. Both had been attacking her little brother, trying to kill him. She sniffed and reached down, brushing Edmund's dark hair from his pale forehead. She would never let anything happen to her little brother if it were in her power to prevent it, but trouble did seem to find Ed when they weren't looking.

"Su?" Edmund blinked up her sleepily, concern shining in his dark eyes. "You okay?" he asked tiredly.

She forced a smile. "I'm fine. How do you feel?"

He frowned thoughtfully and sighed. "Head hurts," he said finally.

"You took a pretty good rap to thick skull of yours," she teased, her voice still a bit shaky.

He stared at her. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, trying to force some cheerfulness into her voice. "Nothing."

Suddenly, he half sat up, reaching up to hug her. She pulled him into her arms, holding onto him for dear life. "Oh, Ed," she said finally, her voice breaking. "You scared me so badly. I was so afraid we were going to lose you again," she sobbed.

He hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to scare you like that again. I should have been watching better. I never saw that Raven until it was already on Phillip and me." He rested his head on her shoulder. "I didn't tell you thank you for saving us," he said, his voice steady and serious.

She rested her cheek against his bandaged head. A few months ago, Edmund would have never hugged her like this. A few month ago, she would have never wanted to hug him like this. She sniffed. "You're my little brother. It's part of my job."

He chuckled softly against her. "You sound like Peter."

"He and I both got the same manual the day you were born," she teased, drawing back to look at him.

Edmund smiled tiredly at her and then blinked. "What are you doing here?" he asked as if just realizing she was in his room.

"Keeping an eye on you, silly, and you're supposed to be sleeping," she said, gently pushing him back down on the bed.

"You don't have to stay," he told her, the perplexed look still on his face.

"Of course, I do," she told him, tucking him in again. "You got hit in the head. You always have to stay with someone after they get hit in the head to make sure they don't go in a coma," she told him. That wasn't quite true in this case. The knock on his head hadn't been that bad, but he didn't need to know that.

He blinked owlishly at her, but accepted her explanation. "Alright," he said finally, yawning broadly.

"Sleep," she ordered and he closed his eyes.

Before very long, his breathing evened out into sleep again and she picked up her needle work. She looked at her sleeping brother and sighed. She had made a promise to herself and their Mum she would be a 'big girl' and look after her brothers and sister and meant to keep that promise.

* * *

The deep silence between the setting of the moon and dawn hung over the still woods. Animals having long before gone to their burrows and dens. Trees sighed as sleep lulled them with its gentle breeze.

Deeper yet, in the shadows of the forest, figures slinked from dark patch to dark patch, finally emerging in a grove of old and twisted pines. The pines groaned and hissed in the night's light breeze.

A cloaked figure settled on a large stump, and several other figures ranged out in the clearing in a half circle in front of the figure.

"Are we all here then?" the figure croaked in a reed-thin voice.

The trees around the group gave a shake, and pine needles showered down and took the shape of the dryads that lived in the trees. The spirits of the trees were not like the slender, beautiful spirits of the dogwood and oak trees that served the Kings and Queens of Cair Paravel. These dryads had served Her, Jadis, the White Witch. Evil had long ago twisted their spirits as it had twisted their limbs and trunks. Knobby and hideous, they glared balefully at the old hag sitting on the stump.

"We have lost Brandubh," the hag informed the small group. "The elder false Queen killed him while he foolishly attacked the traitor and his Horse slave."

A general murmur of distress and anger bubbled up from the group. "The traitor and his slave were injured, but yet they live. Banewing is watching now. The traitor will still be ours. Banewing will see to that. We must be in readiness for that time."

"How do we know that Banewing won't fail as Brandubh?" a small Bobble growled.

"Brandubh failed because he became impatient and did not follow the plan," the hag snapped back. "We will follow the plan. The traitor will be ours, and he will pay for what he and his kind did to our Queen."

Several of the fell creatures murmured their agreement before they began to melt back into the forest one by one.


	6. The Weight of Guilt

Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I was away last weekend, and had to get some things sorted out and get caught up with RL before I could post. Sorry.

Thank you to everyone for your wonderful reviews!! I'm glad the Squirrels were liked. They will show up again another time. :-D Flickleaf is one you can't keep down!

* * *

Chapter 6 - The Weight of Guilt

"_When you are ready, son of Adam," the Witch snarled from her seat on her sleigh. _

_Edmund looked up at the statue of Mr. Tumnus. Stone. She had turned him to stone. All the statues in the courtyard were really people, animals, turned to stone. He swallowed hard. Mr. Tumnus was here because of him, and now they were going after his brother and sisters. An image of them turned to stone. Their faces forever frozen in horror because of his doing. He betrayed them. He had turned them over to this woman to turn to stone_

_A sharp push from behind nearly sent him sprawling, but he made it to the sleigh. The Witch stared calmly ahead. His 'special' status as her 'chosen prince' was obviously over. He had sold how many to death or worse because of his selfishness?_

_Fear and worry gnawed at him. He had done all this to get back at Peter, for what? Telling him he was selfish and petty. He was. Peter hadn't been telling him anything but the truth._

_The dwarf, Ginarrbrik, dragged him to his feet and threw him on the foot of the sled. Edmund huddled against the front of the sled as it sped forward, the cold, biting air cutting through him. He curled tighter in on himself, finding no shelter from the low front of the sled or the cruel Witch behind him. He started to slip into self pity until he thought of his brother and sisters. They were headed to them, not just to find them, but to kill them. He shuddered and tears burned his stinging eyes. It was his fault. All his fault. _

* * *

Lucy spread marmalade over her toast and nibbled at it. She looked around the table. and her eyes landed on her older siblings. Peter's attention was devoured by a map that he had gotten from General Oreius that morning. Susan had her nose in a book as she had since coming down for breakfast. Lucy studied them. Both Peter and Susan both looked exhausted. She didn't doubt it was from their sitting up with Edmund. She wished they would have let her take a turn. She wasn't a baby. She could stay up watching over her brother just the same as they could. She huffed and put down her toast, making up her mind to voice her protest just as the door to the dining room opened.

"Edmund!" she exclaimed, hurrying to greet her brother. She gave him a hug and he gave her tired smile.

"Morning, Lu," he said, giving her a light squeeze and then pulling back. "What's for breakfast?"

Lucy couldn't help but smile. "Toast."

Edmund gave a small laugh and settled into his place at the table.

Peter watched him, his map now forgotten with their brother's arrival. "How are you feeling, Edmund?" he asked.

Edmund shrugged. "Kind of stupid," he said finally. "I let Phillip and I walk into that trap."

"You couldn't have known that someone would try to attack that close to the castle," Susan said, her book now firmly set on her lap.

Edmund gave her and Peter a wry smile. "Isn't that the point of all the military training Oreius is giving us? To be prepared no matter where and when?"

Peter shook his head. "Right enough, but the Cair is supposed to be safe."

Lucy buttered a piece of toast, spread it with marmalade and handed it to Edmund. He blinked at her and blushed a little. "Thanks, Lu." She just grinned and started fixing another.

Edmund looked back to Peter. "Did the search party find any sign of where the Raven came from or if he was working with anyone?" he asked around a bite of toast.

Lucy glanced over at Susan, but the concerned look on her older sister's face meant she was more concerned with Edmund eating than scolding his table manners.

The older king shook his head. "Several groups have gone out, but they haven't found anything. We're starting to wonder if he was just a rogue. Oreius has spoken with the Raven elders and they said the Raven that attacked you and Phillip had been in service of the White Witch. He was an outcast among his own kind."

Edmund sighed and Lucy slipped another piece of toast in his hand while he was distracted, and he started nibbling on it.

Peter caught her eye and gave her a wink. Lucy grinned. She could keep this up all morning if Peter and Susan could keep Edmund distracted enough not to notice.

Susan poured Edmund a cup of tea and fixed it with just a bit of honey and milk, like their Mother always made it. She slid the drink in front of Edmund while he was talking with Peter about how sentries had been posted around the Castle and on the towers to keep an eye out for flying or creeping intruders. Edmund picked up the tea and drank it down without protest, and Lucy kept the toast in easy reach; between she and Susan, they managed to get a fair bit of toast and several cups of tea into Edmund before he caught on.

He caught them as Susan tried to slip him another cup of tea and Lucy stood waiting with a piece of toast. He looked at both his sisters and just smiled. "Thank you," he said, leaning over to kiss Lucy on the cheek. "I really don't deserve either of you," he said, reaching to pat Susan's hand.

Something in his eyes stopped Lucy from making a glib remark. Normally, Edmund kept his feelings hidden until he was ready to share them, but this morning, his heart shown in his eyes. Sadness, worry, shame, guilt, fear--all this and more shown brightly in his dark eyes. Her heart twisted and she wrapped her arms around him. Edmund hugged her back, reaching to stroke her hair. He kissed the top of her head. He ducked his eyes as she pulled away, pushing himself up. "I think I better check on Phillip. I know he's fine, but I just want to check on him." Before any of them could voice a protest, he hurried from the room.

Peter blinked at the girls in surprise. "What was that about?" he asked in puzzlement.

* * *

Edmund pushed himself to appear as if nothing was out of the ordinary as he headed for the stable, but he felt awful. His head throbbed abominable. His shoulders ached from the deep scratched on them. His wrist burned and pained. He wasn't sure if he had landed wrongly on it at some point, but it had gotten to the point that he could barely pick anything up with his right hand. He quickened his pace, hoping the air outside would clear the cobwebs out of his head and cool him down. He had woken miserably hot and sweaty.

He reached the outside and took a deep breath and then winced as the pain in his head upped a notch. He sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. So much for the outside making him feel better. He squinted against the early morning light and set off toward the stable. At least, checking on Phillip would alleviate some of his worry he had for his friend. Everyone kept telling him Phillip was fine, but a nagging feeling that something was wrong with the Horse kept eating away at him. Almost like a voice whispering in his ear that something was horribly wrong and he had to get there right away.

He held his aching wrist against his chest as he walked. He imagined it felt hot to him, but when he checked it, it didn't. He sighed, his thoughts drifting back to the last few weeks. He couldn't seem to stop thinking Her. He didn't want to dwell on those memories, but they wouldn't leave him alone. His poor choices. His mistakes. His betrayal.

He struggled to cling to the thought that he had been forgiven. His brother and sisters had taken him back and forgiven him. Aslan had rescued and forgiven him. He sucked in a breath as tears burned at the back of his throat. His vision blurred as he thought about what Aslan had done for him. He gave his life. He died for him. Aslan had let the Witch humiliate and kill him, just to save Edmund's traitorous life.

He knew he wasn't supposed to know about that. They had all tried to keep it from him, but he had overheard Susan and Lucy telling Peter about what had happened when they had followed Aslan out of the camp the night before the battle. He could hear the tears in Lucy and Susan's voices as they told the humiliation Aslan had suffered at the Witch and her army's hands.

Aslan hadn't deserve that. He had. He was the one that had deserved to die. It was his fault. His family could have killed because of him and his selfishness.

He sniffed and rubbed at his nose, his vision blurring to the point he couldn't see the flagstones under his feet in the courtyard any more.

It was his fault.

All of it.

He was the one who deserved to die.

Suddenly, something slammed into the broad of his back, driving the air from his lungs. Before his brain could process what was happening, he was airborne. The sound of rushing wings and shouts from the ground below were the last thing he heard before darkness took him.


	7. On the Move

Chapter 7 - On the Move

"King Peter!"

Peter jerked up from the map of the north of Narnia he was studying. He was on his feet and out in the hallway as Oreius, the centaur general, bounded up the central stairs.

"King Edmund has been taken," the Centaur informed him.

"What?" Peter gaped.

"A Giant Bat swooped down on him in the courtyard and carried him off," the general said angrily. "The archers couldn't fire for fear of hitting King Edmund." He paused. "It's taking him south-west," he said tightly.

Peter stared at him a moment and then understanding flooded through him. South-west. Towards the Stone Table.

"We've got to go after him," Peter told Oreius.

"I've already ordered a horse saddled for you, sire," the general stated. "The Eagles and Hawks have taken to the air to track them. We'll find them," he stated. "Ready yourself and I will gather your men to ride after them."

Peter took a deep breath and nodded. He couldn't help Edmund running off without anyway to fight to bring his brother back. If he was in the hands of the Witch's followers, they would have to fight and the only way to win a fight was to head into it prepared. He turned on his heel and ran for his room to dress quickly and get his sword. His faun valet helped him into his armor as quickly as possible. He headed back out as he strapped down his sword only to find his sisters waiting for him, each dressed in their ridding clothes with chain mail shirts of dwarvish design under their ridding jackets.

Susan saw the look his face and cut off his protest. "You think you're the only one who can go after our brother? You're going against an enemy that can fly, you'll need my bow."

"And Edmund may be hurt," Lucy cut in. "You'll need someone to take care of him and I have my cordial if it comes to that," she said, setting her jaw and squaring her shoulders.

Peter couldn't argue with them. That moment, he loved his sisters more than he ever had. "All right. Together then."

* * *

Banewing, the Bat, beat his wings. The burden he carried in his claws had long before gone still and limp in his grip. He kept weaving his song around the small human. He had been surprised how quickly the boy had succumbed to his song in the courtyard. Brandubh's ill fated attack must have worn him down enough that the poison from the bite on the boy's wrist had finally taken hold. It had been fortuitous that bite. The small nip given in the dead of night to the sleeping King had been left to fester with poison to wear down his resistance. It had only taken a small enchantment to obscure the wound from all eyes and make the inflamed fevered flesh appear as whole and healthy as the rest of him. The Hag had that simple power to conjure up such things. Hachata was powerful, but nothing like Her. The White Queen had been terrible and wonderful. This traitor boy would pay for his part in destroying her wicked beauty.

Banewing scanned the ground for the rendezvous point. The boy grew heavy and the sun was climbing ever higher as dawn was giving to morning and soon there would be little shadows left to hide.

The Bat had been forced to fly under the tree tops to keep out of the sight of the Eagles and Hawks that had taken to wing when he had scooped up the young King. Banewing had been forced to stop several times and draw into the shadows wrapping his ebony wings around the he and the traitor to hide them. On the first stop, he had been force to bite the boy deeply on the neck to quiet him. The taste of his blood had been seductive and he had to fight the urge to drink him dry on the spot. It had been too long since he had fed properly. They had been forced into hiding and to feed as he once had, would have drawn attention they could not afford right now.

Perhaps, when the ritual was done Hachata would let him finish what he had started or even better. Feed on the others. Ah, what a meal the false High King make or how sweet those small Queens' life blood would be. Sweeter than nectar and more heady than wine.

Banewing smiled to himself as he descended into the inky blackness of a heavy grove of twisted pines. Soon. He would feed soon.

* * *

Peter sat up in his saddle, more accurately, Phillip's saddle. He shouldn't have been surprised to find Phillip waiting for him when they had headed into the courtyard to get their mounts. As if he would let any other horse or Horse, for that matter, go after Edmund. It was hearting to realize how many close friends his brother had already made in their short time in Narnia. Back home in England, he really did know of anyone Edmund had been close to outside of himself and the girls and then it has been simply because they were family. He cast a quick glance around the tense group and realized just how many people did truly care about his brother. Tense worried expressions mirrors his own as he looked at his companions. His sister rode to smaller horses of the non-talking variety. Lucy's not much more than a pony. A rather large Hound, Grey by name and color, had offered his services to help track. He had something of an Irish Wolf-hound look to him, only bigger. He was nearly the size of Lucy's pony. Susan had provided one of Edmund's socks to the Hound as a reference of Edmund's scent. Two smaller excitable Dogs, Beagles, had come with the Grey to help. Orieus and several other Centaurs brought up the rear.

An unpleasant feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, a sickening familiar feeling. The same feeling that had settled in at the Beavers' lodge when they had realized Edmund was gone. Fear and worry and anger. This time not at his brother, but at those who had taken his brother.

He glanced up at the sky and largest of the Eagles, Sharpclaw, the Lord of the Eagles, wheeling over them, his keen eyes scanning the ground ahead of their group. Peter bit back the urge to yell up to him to ask if he saw anything, when suddenly, the Eagle let out a shrieking cry and dove. Several smaller Eagles and Hawks dove after him.

Phillip must have noticed at the same time Peter did, because he lunged forward, without Peter even having to say anything to him. They took off in a quick gallop, leaving the others behind them to hurry to keep up.

It didn't take them long to catch up to the where the Eagle had landed. Sharpclaw poked into the shadows of a tree and then turned concerned golden eyes toward Peter. Then Peter saw it. Blood covered the ground under the tree. Grey bounded over and gave a sniff and huffed in disgust. Peter felt sick. He saw Susan and Lucy catching up and he called out, "Oreius, keep them back." The General frowned, but stepped in front of the girls. Fear flashed between the young Queens, but much to their credit, they waited.

Peter swallowed dryly. "Is he--?"

"Not here, your Majesty," Grey said. "That Bat hurt him, but not enough blood for him to be dead."

Peter felt Phillip blow out a breath and relax a little.

Sharpclaw glanced at the sky. "The Bat wouldn't travel much farther in this light. We may catch them yet." He gave Peter a small bow and then took to the sky again.

Grey gave a call to the smaller dogs and they loped off again.

Peter gave Phillip a little nudge and the Horse headed over to the girls.

"Peter, is he--?" Susan couldn't bring herself to finishing the question.

"Not here, but we found a place they stopped. Lord Sharpclaw thinks they couldn't have gone much farther." He paused look at Lucy. "Keep your cordial close. He may be hurt."

White face, Lucy just nodded, setting her jaw. "I'll be ready."

Peter gave his little sister a smile. Good old Lu really was the Valiant one of them.

He nudged Phillip with a knee to let him know he was ready and they were off again after the Dogs.


	8. Revenge

Chapter 8 - Revenge

Cold, dank pine needles jagged uncomfortably into Edmund's cheek as he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He lay there, not entirely sure where he was, but not wanting to let anyone to realize he was awake until he was ready for them. His right hand felt like dead weight. He couldn't feel much from it, let alone move it. His neck and shoulder ached horribly, the muscles of his neck threatening to seize up if he moved. The unmistakable copper smell of blood filled his nose and he really didn't want to think what the uncomfortable wet, sticky sensation across his chest was. He could only pray to Aslan that someone could find him before something happened. His head felt fuzzy and he was so tired.

He struggled to remember what was going on and it came back to him in a rush. The Bat! He remembered something grabbing him in the courtyard. He had heard Oreius shout and he thought he heard Phillip and then he was in air. He had tried to pull himself loose from the Bat's grasp, but the Bat's claws had tangled in his tunic and dug into his shoulders. The first flight had been bumpy and erratic, his struggling hampering the Bat, but then they had landed and-- Edmund shuddered as the memory of the Bat rank breath on his face before he had sunk his fangs into Edmund's neck. He cringed and the throbbing muscles in his neck spasmed wringing a whimper out of him.

"The little princeling is awake," a reed thin voice cackled. "Wakey. Wakey, son of Adam."

A hand caressed his cheek before pulling him to his knees. Suddenly, a blow from an open hand slapped him fully across the face. He gasped, trying to pull back, his eyes flying open. He almost expected to find the Witch in front of him. The gesture as been so reminiscent of her, but he found himself facing an old Hag. The woman's pinched birdlike features leering at him. A Wolf he recognized as one of the Secret Police stood behind her growling menacingly, daring him to move. Had he the strength, Edmund might have obliged him, but he could barely lift his head, let along put up a fight.

"Prepare him. We must get to the Stone Table before we are discovered," the Hag said, spinning on her heel.

Edmund felt himself being hauled to his feet and his head swam, a dizzying blackness threatening to swallow him again. By the time his head cleared enough to take in his surrounding, he found himself hoisted up between a Boggle and a Orkney. His stomach nearly heaved from the foul stench coming off the creatures. His tried to pull his arms out of their damp, clammy grasp, but they held him tightly.

"Hurry!" the hag cackled.

Edmund tried to put up a struggle against the fell creatures holding him, but his movements were clumsy and ineffective. Abruptly, the oppressive guilt and fear that had been crushing his heart descended and he cried out with the weight. He slumped against the creatures holding him and he could hear them laughing at him.

A finger caught under his chin and the Hag forced his head up to face her. "Oh, Banewing, you have done well. Your song has him entirely now."

Edmund saw the Bat that had kidnapped him earlier had crawled close. His mouth open, but he heard no sound. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remember something he had read once about Bats making sounds that the human ear couldn't hear. The pain in his heart overwhelmed him as the Bat drew closer and something hot and wet ran down his cheeks. He was crying. A tiny part of his mind that was still his, thought that he should be ashamed at showing such weakness to their enemies, but that quiet voice was quickly smothered by a fear and guilt that become all consuming. Death would be a blessing to this torment.

"You shall have that son of Adam," a voice hissed in his ear. "Death shall be yours and your brother and sisters will soon join you," the voice said as Edmund slipped into an all consuming blackness.

* * *

A small Hawk cried and circled above the rescue party. Peter gave a small tug on Phillip's reins to halt him. The other drew up behind him, the horses nicking at the abrupt stop.

The Hawk landed lightly on a snag of a tree beside the trail and bowed his head quickly before addressing him. "Lord Sharpclaw has caught sight of the group. There are about fifteen in their number and being led by a Hag. They are making great haste to the Stone Table." He paused a moment. "Kind Edmund is with them, but he appears to be gravely injured." Peter heard his sisters gasp at this. "Lord Sharpclaw and the others have placed themselves in the trees before the Stone Table to wait in ambush. He has sent me to find you to take you to them so you may engage them from the rear."

"Thank you, Keeneye. Take us there," Peter commanded. He glanced down at Phillip. "You up for a run?"

The Horse shook his head. "Try and stop me," he said with a snort.

Peter smiled and patted the Horse's uninjured shoulder in gratitude.

With a mighty flap of his wings, the Hawk shot straight upward and Phillip took off at a dead gallup. He was still favoring his injured shoulder a bit, but not letting it slow him down. The others were hard put to keep up with them. The smaller horses started to lag behind and Orieus and Centaurs passed them, one of the guard staying behind to guard the Queens.

Peter kept an eye to the sky and the Hawk. Phillip concentrated on keeping up the speed and let Peter guide him. Trees whipped past as the Horse worked to keep pace with the Hawk. Peter strained to keep the Bird in sight through the tree tops. He saw other large Birds join the Hawk and they angled slightly more to the east. The Stone Table lay east and south of Cair Pavell. They had ridden quickly in that direction to try to catch up with the kidnapers.

"Your Highness," the Hawk, Keeneye, dove down and slowed to match their speed. "They are just a head of us, Majesty. They are almost to the Table," he said before peeling off again. They could hear the sounds of battle as the Birds engaged with Hag's group.

Peter dug his knees into Phillip's flanks to urge the Horse faster, when something slammed into his chest with a bone jarring impact. He flew backward off the Horse and hit the ground hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. He gasp like a landed fish, wondering what hit him. A low growl to his left told him. A Wolf.

The Wolf snarled and moved to lunge at him. Peter grabbed for his sword, but had no time to draw it before the Wolf was on him. Teeth snapped in his face, but he managed to grab a handful of fur on either side of the Wolf's neck to from sinking its teeth in his throat. His mind raced back to his fight with Morgram, but that time he had the advantage of having his sword drawn before the Wolf attacked. This Wolf snapped and slobbered, fighting to get a mouthful of Peter's face and throat.

"I will kill you, Son of Adam," the Wolf growled. "I will kill you to avenge my Captain."

"I don't think so," Peter grunted back, struggling for leverage to push the Wolf off enough to get his sword out. He managed to get a foot planted against the underbelly of the Wolf and push him out enough to draw his sword.

The Wolf caught sight of the sword and backed off a bit, circling. He snarled darkly. "You're going to be too late," he taunted. "Hachete will have already reached the Stone Table and the traitor will be dead as he should have been. Blood where blood is owed."

"Aslan took Edmund's place and paid that debt," Peter shot back.

"In your eyes, maybe, but not to us," the Wolf snapped back. "He will pay his debt and pay for his part in killing our Queen, false King."

With that, the Wolf sprang. Peter barely had time to bring up his sword as the Wolf slammed into him again. He fell back, as the tip of the sword pierced the fell creature's black heart. He shoved the Wolf's body off of himself and springing back to his feet. He saw his sisters draw up on their horses, Susan already had her bow out and an arrow on the string. Oreius and the other Centaurs were already at his side, their swords drawn. Peter shot his sisters a look. "You stay here. I don't want you in this. We'll need you after we get Edmund back." He could see their protests, but ignored them. He pointed to two of the Centaurs, not even taking the time to try to remember their names. "Stay with the Queens," he ordered. Turning to Oreius, "Ready?" The General nodded curtly.

Peter felt something brush against him, "Sire." He turned to find Phillip waiting for him to mount again.

"Thanks," he said, swinging back into the saddle. The Centaurs formed around him as Phillip wheeled around and then plunged through the dense thicket separating them from the Stone Table. The scene that met him on the other side was chaos.

The Hag stood on the broken table, Edmund slumped at her feet as she shrieked orders to her followers. The Eagles and Hawks where swooping and diving at the motley assortment of Fell Creatures. An Orkney was haphazardly trying to stab a spear at the great Birds as they flew close to him. A Boggle had taken cover under a corner of the Stone Table and was throwing rocks at the Birds. A group of hideously deformed Nyades were throwing pinecones and trying to blind the Birds by pelting them with clouds of pine needles. A Bat had taken to the air to do battle with Lord Sharpclaw and the two were harrying each other among the treetops. Various other smaller creatures were alternating between slashing with swords and throwing rocks at the Birds.

Peter glanced at Oreius and the Centaur shook his head. "Go after King Edmund, sire. We'll take care of the rest," he said in disgust.

Peter gave Phillip a nudge and the Horse gave a leap through the clearing and up the incline towards the Table. The Horse seemed to anticipate what Peter was going to do and turned at the edge of the stairs leading up to let Peter dismount. He jumped to the ground and took the steps two at a time. Phillip turned and reared up using his hooves to cover Peter and beat back the Creatures that tried to follow.

Peter gripped his sword with both hands as he skidded to a stop at the top of the stairs. The Hag glared at him, stone knife clutched in her hand. She grabbed handful of Edmund's hair, pulling the younger king's head back to expose his throat. "One step closer and I slit his throat," the Hag shrieked, putting the edge of the knife up to Edmund's throat.

Peter's stomach clenched when he got a good look at his brother. Edmund's skin was a chalky grey. Blood was slicked and caked up the left side of his face and soaked his tunic from a viciously looking bite on the neck. Dull, lifeless eyes stared at Peter devoid of recognition.

"Let him go," Peter ordered, leveling his sword at the Hag.

She sneered at him. "I will let him go, into death's embrace," she jeered. "That's what you want, isn't it boy?" she asked Edmund and his head jerked slightly in acknowledgment and his eyes slid shut. "See! That's what your brother wants. He feels responsible for all this. My Queen's death. Aslan's death. Your death," she cackled. Tears started to slid down Edmund's pale cheeks. "It's your fault, isn't it, boy," she hissed in his ear and Edmund's head jerked again in agreement.

"Stop it!" Peter shouted. "That's not true, Ed! She's trying to trick you." He sucked in a breath. He had never seen Edmund like this, even under the sway of the Witch's enchantment. "Edmund, remember the Squirrels." Aslan help his brother. They had to get him out of here.

* * *

Edmund stared at his brother. He didn't want Peter here. He didn't want his brother to see this.

Vaguely, he noted there seemed to be battle, but he couldn't hear any of it. All he could hear was the Hag's voice reminding him of his sins. His transgressions against his brother and sisters and against Aslan.

He was the cause of all this pain. It was his fault and he had to pay. He just wished Peter wasn't here to witness this.

"Edmund, remember the Squirrels," Peter voice came, as if from across a great distance.

Squirrels? What about Squirrels? Edmund blinked slowly. Something from the far depth of his mind struggling forward. It was slippery and elusive and he almost gave up trying to reach for it when he remembered a tiny Squirrel face full of wonder and joy, but at what? At him?

* * *

on

Hachete tightened her grip on the traitor's hair. She was not going to lose this. The false High King and his slaves may have found them, but she would carry out her plan. She would avenge her Queen. The traitor was hers. She did not have the Bat's song to use to control him, but she had her own enchantment she could weave and create around him. He was hers.

Hachete cast her eyes around the clearing and and gasped with dismay. Her army lay in ruins. The Boggle was dead, a Centaur standing over him, pulling his sword out of the Creature's chest. The Orkney battled another Centaur, a heavily muscled one with a black coat and black beard. It was more than obvious the Centaur had the upper hand. Another Centaur was busy hacking limbs off the gnarled Pines. A fourth was herding up the rest of the Fell Creatures. Banewing, the bat was locked in mortal combat above them with the largest of the Eagles. Hachete knew he would not hold out much longer in the blazing sunlight of midmorning.

She tightened her hold on the human boy. They may be finished, but she had sworn revenge and they would have it, even if it cost them all their lives. She looked into his eyes and she could see something had changed. He was fighting the enchantment. Banewing was distracted and could no longer weave his song to hold him and she had let the other human boy distract her. She growled.

There was no time to lose. If she waited much longer, he come to himself and put up a struggle.

"Let him go!" the older Son of Adam, demanded.

She ignored him and jerked the younger King's head back, twining her fingers in his hair. She pressed the knife to his throat and started to draw back when something slammed into her chest. She looked down and a long slender arrow fletched in red stuck out of her ebony cloak. She blinked at it and then suddenly, a small dagger joined the arrow. The stone knife slipped from her hand and clattered to the Stone Table shattering. She reached up to gingerly touch the arrow shaft and tumbled backward, the traitor sliding from her grasp. She lay on the broken Table, her vision growing dim. She had failed. Her eyes lighted on the traitor laying beside her and the growing pool of blood under him. Perhaps not. A small smile twitched the corners of her mouth. Revenge...reve...


	9. Home Again

Chapter 9 - Home Again

"Edmund!" Lucy screamed.

Peter threw himself forward, yanking off his gloves and pressing his fingers to his brother's bleeding throat. He looked up and found the girls at his sides. He had told them to stay back, but right now, he had never been so grateful they had disobeyed him. Susan ripped a chunk of cloth off of her skirt and quickly pressed it to the cut on Edmund's throat to try to slow the bleeding while, Lucy pulled her bottle of cordial out and quickly unscrewed the cap. Peter lifted Edmund's head up on his lap. Heat radiated off of Edmund at an alarming rate. Lucy held the bottle over Edmund's mouth and Peter helped her hold their brother's mouth open while she poured a couple drops of the precious fire flower juice onto his lips. A drop of the juice slipped down his cheek, mingling with the blood caking his face, but the rest landed in his mouth. With a convulsive effort, Edmund swallowed. They all held their breath, hoping and praying that it worked its magic again as it has on the field of Baruna.

Susan sniffed and eased her pressure on the neck wound a moment. She let out a sigh. "He's stopped bleeding," she said softly, reaching to brush her fingers through Edmund's matted hair. "Oh, Peter, he's burning up."

Peter shifted so they could get a good look at what shape Edmund was in. Blood has soaked through his tunic, turning the green fabric a sickly brown. A ragged bite mark on his neck was starting to heal and close over as the cordial's magic worked to heal Edmund's body.

"Oh, Edmund," Lucy whispered in horror lifting Edmund's hand to show them a horribly infected bite wound on his right wrist.

Behind them they heard the clip-clop of hooves and then Orieus spoke, "Sire."

Peter looked up sharply at him. "What?"

"The area is secured," the General told him.

Peter blanched. He had totally forgotten about the others in his focus to rescue Edmund. "Thank you," he said gratefully.

Orieus frowned. looking at the bite wound heal sluggishly. The magic seemed to struggle to heal the wound.

"That is an old bite," the Centaur said and then his huffed a breath. "The Bat. That's what he was doing so close to the castle. Great Bats like that have a poison in their saliva that spreads to their victims. It allows them to weave an enchantment over them to draw them to a place where they can quietly feed on them."

"But why didn't we see it?" Lucy asked, stroking Edmund's forearm tenderly, as if coaxing the magic to work it's spell faster as it healed him.

"Enchantment," Orieus said sourly. "This place reeks of it. The Hag has been working long here and right under our noses." He looked sharply around. "As quickly as possible, we need to leave this place. I would not be surprised if there are more remnants of the Witch's Army in hiding here. The sooner we are away the safer we will be."

"But what about the poison?" Susan interrupted.

"It is not deadly on its own. It mearly weakening the victim so the Bat can weave its song and enchant them. Infusion of a white violet flower will cure it," Oreius told her.

Understanding flashed across Lucy's face. "The flowers Mrs. Cloverblossom gave me. The ones she made me promise to give Edmund. They were white violets, as was the tea she made me."

"We can get her to make us some when we get back," Peter said, shifting his legs under himself.

Susan helped him haul Edmund up as he stood. Edmund hadn't woken yet, but he wanted to get them all as away from here and safe as quickly as possible. Peter looked around quickly for Phillip. The Horse held his place at the bottom of the stair leading to the Stone Table, guarding them.

"Phillip, do you think you're up to carrying Edmund and Lucy?" he called down.

"I will carry King Edmund to the Great Emperor over the sea if need be," the Horse said firmly, looking Peter squarely in the eyes.

Peter scooped his younger brother up in his arms, worried and frightened at how pale and thin he looked right now. Edmund took more after their Mother which a slighter build and darker hair. He had always been small for his age, but he was too thin. Peter wondered just how long ago that Bat had bit him.

He carried Edmund down the stairs and waited for Lucy to mount Phillip. The Horse stood along the side of the steps to let the girl mount him. She settled herself back on the saddle and Orieus helped Peter lift Edmund up to her. Lucy settled back, wrapping her arms around him and letting Phillip to guide them. Peter unhooked the reins from the bridle so they didn't get tangled on any branches or under Phillip's feet.

Peter mounted Lucy's horse and felt a bit ridiculous on the poor little thing. He and Susan moved their horses to ride on either side of Phillip to help Lucy with Edmund if she needed them. Peter nodded to Phillip and they started out slowly back to the Castle, the Centaurs forming a defensive ring around them.

* * *

He was hot. So very hot. It was strange sensation after being cold so long. He rocked gently as if on the sea. Was he on a boat? His cheek rested against something soft and something held firmly, but gently around his shoulders. It felt familiar. Like a hug. His eyes struggled open, but he couldn't quite focus on anything. Someone was holding him. He knew he knew who it was, but couldn't quite put a name to the face.

She looked down at him and smiled. "Just rest, Edmund. We're almost home," she said softly, placing a kiss against his forehead. Her lips were cool against his hot skin. Cool, but not cold. Not Her.

He blinked slowly and stared, her name finally coming to him. "Lucy," he said, his voice sounding very weak and rough.

She smiled. "Just rest. Phillip says we'll be home shortly."

Phillip? He frowned. How did he know Phillip?

"Rest, my King." The Horse they were riding spoke. He could feel the voice rumbling up through his backbone. He knew he should find this very odd, but he didn't. It wasn't odd, it was... comforting.

He looked back over Lucy's shoulder and could see Peter and Susan on horses behind him. Peter's horse looked tiny under him and he frowned at that, but he stopped when he saw the worried expressions on his older brother and sister's faces. Large, half horse half man creatures...Centaurs, he thought. Orieus, his mind filled in when he saw the large black coated, bearded one close to Peter. The Centaurs all had the same concerned looks on their faces Lucy, Peter and Susan wore. What was wrong they looked so worried?

"Shh," Lucy soothed and he realized he must have been thinking out loud. She smiled at him. "They're worried about you. You're sick right now. You'll get better just as soon as we get home."

He nodded and closed his eyes. He felt so tired. His head fell forward to rest against her shoulder. How could they be worried about him after what he had done? He didn't deserve this. He deserved--

"Rest," Lucy interrupted his thoughts again. "We love you, Edmund. That's why. Just sleep. We'll be home soon."

Tears pricked his eyes and he whispered, "Thank you," as sleep took him again.

* * *

The ride back to the Castle was a much slower, more somber trip than the mad dash to the Stone Table. The swiftest of the Eagles was dispatched to the fly ahead of them and warn the Castle staff to have Edmund's room prepared and to fetch an apothecary to prepare the white violet tea. Lucy had suggested they have Mrs. Cloverblossom, the Rabbit, do it, but Peter was leery. It just seemed too convenient the Rabbit had showed up right as she had with the exactly the herb that was needed. How did she know that Edmund needed the protection of the flowers and the tea? It just didn't sit well with him. They had already had enough threats to their brother's life without inviting any others.

As they drew close to the Castle, Peter could see Tumnus and most of the staff waiting on the stairs that led to the front gate. It was a worried, but grateful crowd of Talking Animals, Fauns, Centaurs and Dwarves. Peter smiled to himself. They were here for Edmund. Part of him wished his brother would awake up and see how deeply he was cared about, but another part was glad he was sleeping. He had been through so much.

Peter watched his sister Lucy's back as she fussed over Edmund. She was growing. She was still a girl, but she was very much becoming the Queen she was meant to be.

Peter shifted his weight and the small horse under him groaned in complaint. He muttered an apology to the creature. It wasn't one of the Talking Horses, as Phillip was, but still. He was a great big oaf for the little thing.

They slowed as they reached the courtyard and for a moment, Peter wondered if Phillip was going to walk straight in with Edmund on his back. It wouldn't surprise him if the Horse did just that. It was amazing the bond that had formed between the Horse and his brother.

Before the Horse could attempt to scale the stairs, Orieus stepped up to relieve he and Lucy of their precious burden. Peter watched as Lucy reluctantly let the Centaur take Edmund.

"If you would allow me the honor," he heard Orieus say to her and Phillip as he craddled Edmund in his large arms. "I will keep him safe."

Tumnus was waiting just inside the gate to fuss over them as Orieus carried Edmund into the Castle. Peter slipped off the small horse he was riding and the creature let out a relieved nicker. Susan slid down from her mount and ran to help Lucy down from Phillip. Peter went to the Horse. "Thank you for everything, Phillip."

The Horse bowed his head. "As I said, before, sire. I would carry my King Edmund anywhere. Let me know how he fairs with the tea. I will see to the other horses and make sure they are cared for, sire."

Peter gave him a grateful nod and gathered the reins. "Thank you," he said again as Phillip took the reins in his mouth and lead the horses to the stable.

Peter turned and quickly followed the girls into the Castle.


	10. Family

The end is in sight now. Only one more chapter to post! Thank you so much for your reviews. I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond to them individually yet, RL has been absolutely crazy! Thank you!

* * *

Chapter 10 - Family

Warm blankets and a sweet flowery smell where the first things Edmund became aware of. He was comfortable. More comfortable than he could remember being in a very long time. He felt sleepy, but not so much he was going back to sleep just yet. He just wanted to enjoy being comfortable.

The murmur of soft voices slowly worked their way into his ears.

"He's still sleeping, but the fever has finally broken and he should start to mend now. He is very weak, but the worst is over now," a slightly growly, unfamiliar voice was saying.

"What should we do?" he heard Peter ask.

"He should rest as much as he can for now and then return to his normal activities within a few weeks, but just as is tolerated. He must refrain from over exerting until his strength returns. It will take time, but he should recover fully. I would recommend an infusion of the sweet white violet tea daily for the next month to secure against relapses."

Violet. That was what he smelled. Violet flowers. He sniffed and shifted to rub his nose and groaned as his neck and shoulder protested the movement.

"He wakes," the unfamiliar voice stated.

Edmund sighed. There was no use pretending he was still asleep now. He struggled to open his eyes and then squinted against the glare of the morning sun. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes and heard curtains being pulled and he could finally focus. Peter, Susan, Lucy and Mr. Tumnus were crowded at the foot of his bed with an aged female Badger wearing a white apron standing with them.

Edmund blinked a moment before finally saying, "Hello."

Lucy let out a squeal of delight and nearly flattened him jumping on the bed and hugging him fiercely. He laughed tiredly and hugged her back. He couldn't match her ferocity. He felt as washed out as a limp dish rag.

"Ease up, Lu," Peter called, pulling their younger sister off Edmund. "I don't think he's quite up to bear hugs yet."

Lucy pulled back, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry. Edmund. I just glad you're finally awake. You've had us all terribly worried."

Edmund felt his cheeks warm and he dropped his eyes. "I'm sorry--" he started to apologize. He had cause them nothing but trouble, again.

"Stop," Peter ordered in the voice he usually reserved for the more unruly of their subjects.

Edmund felt the bed sink down as Peter sat on the edge of it. Edmund kept his eyes down until he felt Peter rest a hand on his knee.

"Edmund?" Peter waited until Edmund looked up him. He felt the other side of the bed shift and he looked over to see Susan and Lucy sitting there, watching him. The Badger and Mr. Tumnus had slipped out quietly, closing the door behind them.

"Ed," Peter started again. "This isn't your fault and none of us blame you about anything that happened." The girls nodded their heads in agreement. "Yes, in the past you were beastly and you did betray us to the Witch, but you're our brother and we love you. No matter what."

"I don't deserve it," Edmund said softly, hot tears stinging behind his eyes.

Lucy took his hand in her smaller one. "None of us do. That's what makes it love. Love is something you do inspite of someone."

Peter made him look at him again. "Ed, you were bitten by a Bat. It was one of the Witch's. It had venom in it's bit that's been eating at you for a long while. The bite made you suseptable to it's song. The song was an enchantment feeding your guilt."

Edmund rubbed his wrist and Peter nodded. His wrist still ached, but not like before. It was more like a bad sprain starting to heal, not the strange throbbing pain that ate at him.

"Do you remember when your wrist started to bother you?" Susan asked gently.

Edmund thought back. "Just after the Coronation. I thought I slept on it funny or banged it in training and didn't notice." He frowned. "It bit me then?"

Peter nodded. "The Bat was working with a Hag. She must have put an enchantment on the wound so you or the rest of us couldn't notice it."

Edmund sighed deeply.

"What?" Lucy prompted.

He looked at her and studied her face. "Aslan was right when he named you the Valiant. I guess I've always been jealous of that in you. You've never been afraid to do anything. That's why I was so beastly with you. I wanted to be like you, but I was afraid." He looked at his older sister. "You are the gentle one, Susan. I always snapped when you mothered me because," he swallowed the lump rising in his throat," I liked it and I didn't want you to know." He glanced over at Peter, but he couldn't look at him and finish this. "I guess I've always been jealous of you too. You are magnificent. I've always wanted to be like you, but I can't. I'm not like you." He twisted a bit of the blanket in his fingers. "I'm just...I'm nothing. I--" he suddenly found himself in Susan's arms the tears he had been fighting back, tumbling down in a rush of sobs. He felt Lucy lay her head against his arm and Peter stroking his hair. They held him until his sobs softened into hiccups. "I don't deserve to be a King. I don't deserve you, any of you," he said finally.

Peter caught his chin and gently raised his head until their eyes met. Edmund tried to look away, but Peter wouldn't let him. "None of us deserve this, Edmund," he said softly. "We don't deserve to be Kings and Queens. We don't deserve to be in Narnia, but we are, because Aslan wishes it to be so. He loved us first, even before we knew him. He knows our faults and doesn't care. He loves us, in spite of ourselves," he said, giving Lucy a small smile. She smiled back at him.

"All Aslan wants in return from us is to love him and honor him," Peter added.

"I do," Edmund said solemnly.

"I know you do," Peter said. "He also doesn't want us to question his judgement and he is the one who made you King, Ed."

Edmund had never thought of it that way. He trusted Aslan implicitly. "But why?" he asked.

Peter gave him a slow smile. "I think that's something the rest of us have been asking about ourselves. Why did Aslan pick us? Why four kids from Finchley? Why bring us to Narnia? Why make us Kings and Queens?"

"Because he's Aslan," Lucy informed them.

Edmund couldn't help, but smile at her answer. He was Aslan, did they really need more of a reason?

Peter ruffled Lucy's hair and she ducked her head away from him. He grabbed for her, dragging her to the end of the bed to tickle her. She shrieked in laughter at his attack.

Edmund rested his head down against Susan's shoulder again. For the first time in a very long time, he felt safe and at peace. He didn't even realize his eyes had gone closed until he felt Susan leaning him back against the pillows. He struggled to get his eyes to open, but she brushed a kiss to his forehead, whispering, "Shh. Sleep. Everything all right. We'll be here when you wake up."

He relaxed, trusting her.

* * *

Lucy chewed on her lower lip as she and Peter waited for Mrs. Cloverblossom to meet them in the courtyard. Susan had stayed with Edmund, who was still sleeping, while they went to talk to the Rabbit. A messenger, a Squirrel named Barkerunner who had been with the group of Squirrels that had decided to move closer to the castle so they could offer their services to Edmund, had gone to look for the Rabbit. Lucy had been so proud of Edmund when they had told her how her brother had stood up to the White Witch trying to keep her from turning them into stone. Edmund had never told them about that, but then, he rarely spoke of his time with the Witch and they had not pressed him. She knew the Witch had been awful to him. She had seen some of his bruises and cuts when Aslan had returned him to them, but she knew there had been more, much more that only Peter and Aslan knew about.

"It that her?" Peter asked, drawing her out of her thoughts.

A rather large, large by English standards at any rate, brown Rabbit hopped towards them being lead by large Squirrel with a much smaller Squirrel hopping around them excitedly.

"Yes, that's her," Lucy said, starting forward, but Peter's hand on her shoulder stopped her and reminded her of why they were here.

The Squirrels and Rabbit came up to them and bowed lowly.

"Mrs. Cloverblossom," Lucy greeted, holding herself more formally than she usually did with friends, but she wasn't as sure if the Rabbit was a friend just yet.

"Queen Lucy," the Rabbit greeted, her nose twitching and whiskers bobbing as she looked at them. She looked at Peter and bowed again. "King Peter, it is a pleasure, sire. All is well, I hope," she said tenetively, looking from one to the other.

"Actually, that is what we came to talk to you about," Peter stated. "I'll get right to the point. Why did you send our brother, Edmund, white violets?"

The Rabbit sighed. "He is ill, then, isn't he?" she asked sadly. "I was afraid of that. I heard he had been kidnapped and I was afeared he had been bitten."

"How did you know?' Lucy exclaimed.

"Begging your majesties pardons, but I didn't know. I heard tell that a Bat had been sighted around the castle, but I didn't know it had actually bitten anyone. I had worried about, you, Queen Lucy, but I did give you a spot of tea to try to protect you and asked you give King Edmund those flowers, in hope to keep you safe," she said to Lucy and then turned to Peter. "I doubted the Bat would be bold enough to try to do something to you, King Peter or to Queen Susan. They are a bit cowardly and like to pick on creatures smaller than themselves." She gave Lucy a quick look. "No offense intended, your Majesty, but you are younger and those Bats are such cowards, skulking around in the shadows and the like."

Peter glanced at Lucy. "I see," he said. "From whom did you hear about the Bat?" he asked.

"A Chipmunk told me, but, bless them, they are a bit flighty. They have hard enough time remembering where they bury their nuts, let alone where and when they saw something. "

Lucy struggled not to smile. She had met a few Chipmunks and that was a very accurate assessment of them. She looked up at her brother and saw the hard set of his shoulders had relaxed.

"I want to thank you, Madam Rabbit," Peter said to Mrs. Cloverblossom, "but next time, I would appreciate if you'd let one of us know if you hear about someone or something hanging around the castle that shouldn't be."

"Aye, Sire, I will," the Rabbit said solemnly.

"King Peter, sire, Majesty, sir," a small voice squeeked.

Peter looked around and then saw, Flickleaf, Barkerunner's son, peeking out from around his Father. He smiled. "Yes, Flickleaf."

"Is King Edmund sick, sire, King Peter, sir?" the little Squirrel asked.

"Just call me, King Peter, Flickleaf," the told the Squirrel gently. "Yes, King Edmund is ill, but he's getting better now."

"I heard Daddy saying he needs white violet flowers. I'm really fast. I can gather them for you if it will help," Flickleaf offered, slipping out from behind his Father.

Peter smiled. "I would appriciate that, Flickleaf. That would help."

The little Squirrel beamed before bounding off to look for them.

Lucy grinned at her big brother.

"Sire," Mrs. Cloverblossom said. "I'm assuming you'll be needing tea for King Edmund. I would like to offer to help with that .It's the least I can do. I should have warned you about the Bat."

"She makes wonderful tea, Peter," Lucy interjected, hoping he would accept.

"I think that's a splendid idea," Peter said. "If Lucy says it's 'wonderful,' it must be." He gave Lucy a small wink. "I'll see that the kitchen staff knows you are coming."

The Rabbit bowed again. "Thank you, sire."

Barkerunner turned to Mrs. Cloverblossom. "I'll see Flickleaf brings you the violets he finds, but you may find yourself swamped in them. He gets a bit enthusiastic," he said with a small chuckle.

Peter thanked them agian and nodded to Lucy to let the Animals sort out the detailes of the tea. Lucy slid her hand into her brother's as they walked back to the Castle.

"I'm so happy that worked out. I didn't think Mrs. Cloverblossom was working with those bad Animals," she said giving her brother's hand a squeeze.

"I'm glad too," Peter said. His face grew somber as they neared the Castle.

"Peter," Lucy said. He looked down at her. "Edmund's going to be okay, isn't he?"

"Grubdigger said he would be," he said, refering to the Badger apothocary.

"I don't mean that exactly," she said slowly. "I mean--" she struggled to put it in words. "Will he be Edmund again? He's been so...sad."

"Part of that was the poison from the Bat, but I know what you mean. We'll just have to help him."

Lucy nodded and then hugged his arm. He smiled and gave her a quick hug back. Lucy pulled back and looked up at her brother and then suddenly darted off, calling behind her, "Race you!"

Peter stood there a moment in surprise, and then he laughed, charging after her.


	11. Love and Loyalty

This is it. We've made it to the end! Thank you to everyone for your kind reviews. I hope you've liked it. The sequel is in the works and the first half went off to my beta. :-D Thank you for reading!!

* * *

Chapter 11 - Love and Loyalty

Edmund slipped into the courtyard quietly. He paused just outside the main door and listened. So far, he hadn't been found out. He had left Susan sleeping in his room. Peter had been in conference with Oreius, and he wasn't sure where Lucy was. More than likely, she was with Mr. Tumnus.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and headed for the stable. He wanted to check on Phillip. He didn't remember much of what had happened after the Stone Table, but he remembered something vague about he and Lucy on a Horse and the Horse talking to them. He was sure that had been Phillip and that he had been limping. His memories of the last few days were hazy at best. The Faun Healer, Tholun, and Grubdigger, a Badger apothecary, said he had a pretty bad fever. Peter said it was from the bit the Bat had given him. He sighed. He had been so stupid.

He sighed again and realized his lungs were burning and he couldn't quite catch his breath. He made it to the stable and leaned against the corner of the building. His head was swimming and his legs feeling like they were made of jelly. He felt sick in the stomach with fatigue,and the little bit of toast he had eaten earlier threatened to make a reappearance. Maybe he had been sicker than he thought. He swallowed a gulp of air. He was this far, no use turning back. He closed his eyes a moment to pull himself together. He didn't want make it to see Phillip just to faint at the Horse's feet.

He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath, heading into the stable. He squinted into the dim light of the stable. He heard voices in the back of the stable where Phillip's quarters were. He started to turn around when he realized one of the voices was Peter. Bugger! How did he get in here?

"Edmund!" He flinched at the sharp edge on his brother's voice.

He heard Peter huff in exasperation and the straw crunch under his boots as he came up behind him. A hand rested on his shoulder sympathetically. "Come on, Phillip's been worried sick about you. You two may as well visit for awhile since you're here."

He nearly fainted with relief that Peter wasn't going to light into him.

"Whoa!" Peter exclaimed, grabbing him as Edmund's knees started to buckle.

The next thing Edmund knew, he was lying on his back in the straw and something warm and soft was brushing up against his face. His nose tickled, and he reached up and rested his hand against a warm muzzle.

He opened his eyes and looked up in the very concerned eyes of Phillip.

The Horse's head glanced up and over Edmund's shoulder. "King Peter, he's awake."

Edmund groaned. He'd fainted. Great. He struggled to sit up, and both Peter and Phillip pushed him back down.

"Rest," his older brother ordered. "Phillip's already threatened to sit on you if you don't."

The Horse nodded his head. "I will. Don't think that I'm kidding. I will do it."

Edmund snorted and started to laugh. The Horse blew a breath out his nose in disgust, but after a moment, he let Peter helped Edmund sit up.

Edmund gave the Horse a critical look. "Are you alright, Phillip? I mean really, are you alright?"

The Horse shook his mane. "My shoulder is still sore but is healing well."

"You came after me, didn't you?" he asked.

He nodded. "As if I would let King Peter ride anyone else to come after you," he snorted.

Edmund felt humbled by the Horse's loyalty. "Thank you."

"You would do no less for me," Phillip told him.

The Horse gave him a searching look. "How are you?"

Edmund opened his mouth to say he was fine, but he saw the look in the Horse's eyes and he stopped. "Better. I still feel awful, but not like before. I just feel wrung out, like after the battle," he grimace at that analogy and shot his brother a look. Peter had a worried, pained look on his face. "I didn't mean it that way," Edmund said quickly. "I just mean--" he sighed. "I make a mess out of everything_, don't I?"_

"Ed, it's not your fault," Peter said started.

"That's the point," Edmund said. "It is. If I hadn't betrayed you to the Witch, this wouldn't have happened. I'm the one who made the mess. It's my fault that--" he throat tightened. "It's my fault Aslan gave himself to the Witch for her to kill him. He took my place. I'm the one who deserved to die."

A warm nose nudged his shoulder until he looked up. Phillip stared down at him. "You did not force Aslan to take your place," the Horse told him. "He chose to do that because he loves you and he knew that she really couldn't kill him. He knows the true deep magic. He knew how to make her evil work for good."

Edmund felt Peter kneel down beside him. "Edmund, you can't keep blaming yourself. Remember what Aslan said. 'What's done is done'. That means you, too. None of us can change what happened, just go on from here and learn from it. She tricked you and enchanted you not to question her. You know that now. It's like the Bat, he poisoned you to get you to believe his lies."

"You are still but a colt, my King," Phillip said. "You are still learning. Learn from this and be a better King for it."

Edmund leaned over against his brother. "What did I do to deserve you two?"

Peter smiled. "Nothing. We love you."

Phillip snorted and nudged Edmund's shoulder in agreement. "But there is no accounting in taste."

Edmund couldn't help but laugh at that, and he relaxed against his brother's shoulder. He realized that the heavy weight that had been a part of his for so long had begun to ease. Aslan knew. He knew all this and he still chose him. He just had to trust Aslan.

fin


End file.
